The Apology
by walutahanga
Summary: Wes Collins comes into work oneday to find a familiar face waiting for him. And she's not happy.


**The Apology**

**Disclaimer: **Neither the Power Rangers, the X-men, the Hulk, the Ninja Turtles, the Fantastic Four, Spiderman, or the Dare Devil (in fact, any of the characters mentioned here) belong to me. I'm not sure who they belong to, but it's probably someone with money who can do nasty things to me if I don't disclaim ownership.

This is just a re-do of the old fic. I realized that in my haste to torture Wes, I'd left some stuff out (eg. why Astronema is referring to herself as a mutant rather than an alien). So I fiddled around and added in some much-needed explanations. Um. This is also kind of a one-shot, because I have no idea I would do with it afterwards. Just imagine Wes trying to explain to all those superheroes what he's got against mutants, lol.

----

It started out as a good day. Correction. It started out as a brilliant day.

Wes' dad just that morning had said that morning that he would give him the extra grant for his Silver Guardian organization – something him and Eric had been hanging out for, for weeks.

So where had it gone wrong?

How had this wonderful day gone so completely wrong that he had walked into the garage to find a purple-haired woman dressed in leather with a silver-I-don't-know-what-it-does-but-I'm-sure-it-hurts-a-lot- pointy-thing levelled menacingly at his stomach.

"Wes Collins?" She asked sweetly. He nodded stupidly.

"Uh, yeah."

A purple bolt of light shot from the pointy-thing. Wes flung himself to the side. A sheet of metal resting against the wall sizzled and began to melt.

"What was that for?" Wes yelled, sensibly hiding behind the tank.

"What was that _for_?" She actually sounded offended. "That was for your stupid media campaign trashing mutants!"

More bolts shot at him. Wes ducked, sparks flying from the tank. Blackened holes appeared in its smooth surface.

"Hey!" He yelled, annoyed. "You can shoot at me all you like, just don't hurt the machines. They cost good money."

He hadn't expected her to take his suggestion quite so literally. The next bolt almost took his head off. He ducked, swearing.

"Lousy bi – "

More holes appeared in the tanks' side.

"I heard that!" She snarled.

"Look," Wes said reasonably, deciding that talking might help. At least she was willing to talk. "What's this about the mutant campaign? All I said was the truth, that mutants are dangerous criminal freaks that ought to be thrown into prison for the next thousand years…"

The air was suddenly filled with purple bolts.

"I'M A MUTANT!" She shrieked. "MY BROTHER'S A MUTANT! MY HUSBAND'S A MUTANT, AND SO'S MY DAUGHTER!"

"Oh great." Wes muttered. "Another criminal from the future."

"Don't be an ass," she snorted. "I'm not from the future and I'm definitely not a criminal. One-time princess of darkness maybe, but definitely _not_ a criminal."

It took a moment for Wes' mind to process that.

"Astronema?" He choked, peering cautiously out from his hiding place. "I mean, Karone!"

"Yes?"

She wielded the silver pointy thingy, and almost absently shot a purple bolt of light at him.

He ducked again, now thoroughly confused.

"Why are you evil again?" He demanded. "And since when were you a mutant?"

"All kerovans are mutants," she said, sounding peeved. "And I am _not_ evil! Just really, really pissed off."

"So I noticed," he muttered with a certain level of irony. A bolt narrowly missed his ear, singing his hair, and splatting against the wall in a shower of sparks.

He tried talking to her again.

"But I didn't know kerovans were mutants! Honest! And…" He trailed off. "And how did _that_ happen? Did you all get exposed to toxic waste or something?"

"Hardly," she snorted. "Like the so-called x-men, our line branched off from yours a long time ago, resulting in certain genetic differences like stripy hair and telekenetic abilities." She raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Don't tell me you didn't notice?"

"Well, no," he admitted. "I just thought you all had really bad hairdressers or something."

This time he was warned by the dangerous narrowing of her eyes. He ducked just in time to avoid his head being taken off by a hail of purple bolts.

_Dear lord in heaven, if I live through this, I promise never to say another word to the media so long as I live…_

Suddenly there was a beam of red light and deliverance (or so Wes thought) appeared in the form of a man with brown and blonde striped hair.

"Andros!" Wes yelped. "Am I glad to see you! Stop this psychotic sister of yours shooting at me!"

"Karone!" The kerovan shook his head. "Karone, you promised you'd only throw things."

"I lied," she shrugged. He raised an eyebrow at her and she sighed. "Alright, alright."

She vanished the silver pointy thing and looked around. She picked up a hammer, weighing it in her hand.

"This feels about right." With that, she threw it – quite accurately too – at Wes. Wes ran for cover behind the land rover.

"What's the big deal?" He wailed, thoroughly confused. "I made a mistake, that's all!"

"Oh this mistake goes _way_ beyond us." Andros said, tight-lipped. He watched his sister look around for something else to throw. When she couldn't find anything, she shrugged and snapped her fingers. A vase appeared in a violet blink of light.

"Your stupid media campaign is giving a bad rap to every mutant on earth." The red ranger started ticking off on his fingers. "The Dare Devil and Spiderman are getting even worse coverage than usual."

_Smash!_

Astronema – aka Karone – flung the vase at Wes' head, narrowly missing.

"The Fantastic Four are getting death-threats in the mail."

_Bang!_

"There's a dead or alive arrest warrant out for the Hulk."

_Crash!_

"The X-men can't leave their mansion without getting trash thrown at them."

_Whack!_

"Oh, and did I mention?" Andros finished sarcastically. "We had to rescue the ninja turtles from an angry mob this morning!"

"Ow!" Wes yelped, dodging an antique clock. "Okay, okay, okay. I get the picture. I'm sorry, alright?"

Karone paused for a second, weighing a solid gold trophy in her hand. She carefully judged the distance between them, drew her arm back, and threw it.

And that was the last thing he remembered.

----

Wes came to with a really bad headache and a chick in black leather leaning over him.

"Apology accepted," she said sweetly. "Provided, of course, you print a retraction for every statement you ever made trashing mutants."

"Done," he said quickly.

Anything to get this psychotic woman away from him.

"There now," she said, pulling him to his feet and dusting him off. "That wasn't so bad, was it? Just think – all you have to do now is apologise to everyone else."

"Whaa-aa…"

Wes stared in horror as five green shapes materialised in his garage. Every one of them armed to the teeth. He spun around just in time to see Karone and Andros teleport out in twin streams of red and purple light.

"Wait, you can't leave me...!"

"Just remember," Karone's cheery voice floated out from thin air. "After the Ninja Turtles, it's the Hulk's turn!"

Wes slowly turned around. One of the Ninja Turtles took out his num-chucks and began spinning them. They made a nasty whistling sound. Another turtle – a female-looking one this time – stepped forward.

"Wes Collins?" She said in an ominous tone.


End file.
